


A Tragic End to Silence

by Uniasus



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Family, Gen, Headcanon, Pre-Movie(s), childhood development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uniasus/pseuds/Uniasus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a little weird how at one Hiro isn't even crawling yet, but Tadashi thinks it's because his brother would rather be picked up and carried and everyone indulges him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tragic End to Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I have two headcanons; one is about the situation around Hiro's first words and the other is why Tadashi didn't go into the health field. I just had to explore and figure out the details in a family fluff piece. 
> 
> All my research into child development comes from two images I found on Google and the knowledge that sometimes geniuses are a bit slow to talk.
> 
> In-story author notes at the underlines if you're interested, just put your cursors over the words.

Hiro had always stumped their parents, which meant he stumped Tadashi too. 

_He should be crying. Why isn't he babbling? Tadashi made so much noise as an infant._

They worried over Hiro's health, for he only cried when he was really distressed. Crying meant he was starving, not just hungry. Even at two months old, Hiro had a high tolerance for discomfort and would wait until things were three times as uncomfortable then for any other baby before starting to wail softly and bringing one of their parents rushing in a panic.

Maemi and Tomeo took Hiro to doctor after doctor. _Was he not making noise because he didn't realize the use? Was he deaf? Was there something wrong in his brain?_

No. No. And no.

There was nothing physically wrong with Hiro. He just was abnormally quiet. 

It worried his parents and so it worried Tadashi too.

* * *

Making sure they never let things get too bad, Maemi and Tomeo would feed and change Hiro at regular intervals. It was probably more than the baby needed, Tadashi thought, as Hiro was getting fat and a lot of clean diapers were getting tossed, but it ensured Hiro was never in dire need of one thing or another. 

His parents joked Hiro was much easier to care for then Tadashi had been, but Tadashi could still feel the undercurrent of concern. Hiro was so easy everyone commented on it, even the material Tadashi got his hands on mentioned how unusual this behavior was. 

The doctor visits continued, having a neurosurgeon for a mom mean she knew lots people to visit, but the answer was always the same. 

_Nothing is wrong. Enjoy his quietness. Hiro might make up for it when he started talking._

* * *

Tadashi would spend hours staring at his baby brother in his crib while their mom napped and dad was at work. Sometimes Hiro would sleep too, sucking his thumb, and other times the baby would look and smile at Tadashi. Hiro would reach up his pudgy little hands, waving them in the air with a smile on his face. Tadashi would let his little brother grip an index finger, grinning at the baby below him.

"Why don't you make noise?" he would ask almost every day. Hiro would just continue to smile, sometimes opening and closing his mouth silently. Once in awhile, the baby would throw in a body wiggle. Ever single time though, Hiro kept eye contact. 

It was more than a little unnerving. 

His brother may not make much noise, Tadashi learned, but he did like making faces.

Faces that meant something.

* * *

It was a day before his mother's first surgery since the birth. She was at the stove, stirring the noddles. His father was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking to her, and holding Hiro against his shoulder with one hand on his diaper clad butt. Tadashi was coloring an anatomy textbook, he wanted to be a doctor like his mom. 

Every few colored pencil strokes he'd look up at Hiro. His brother was watching him color, watching the movements of Tadashi's hands and how the color came from the pencils, taking in the designs of the digestive system, looking at Tadashi's face every other time the older boy looked up. 

Tadashi saw it. A faint pinch to Hiro's eyes, a crease between his eyebrows, the puffing out of his checks just a bit. It was a new expression, he always made smiling ones at Tadashi as he laid in the crib. Tadashi wondered at this one, was Hiro mirroring his own expression while he colored, when Tomeo spoke.

"Well, apparently someone needs a diaper change before we sit down to eat." His dad took a whiff of Hiro's butt and then made a silly face at Tadashi as he walked out of the kitchen to the nursery.

"Put away your book, Dashi, and start setting the table."

Tadashi did as his dad said, puzzling over Hiro's new expression. 

He was still puzzling over it when by chance he saw his brother's face in the morning. Hiro was recently changed, thanks to their schedule, but Hiro made that same face as the previous night. On a whim, Tadashi checked Hiro's diaper and sure enough it needed changing.

"Mo~m," he called out.

"Yeah Dashi?" he heard from the bathroom where she was doing her hair.

"You need to change Hiro."

"I just did twenty minutes ago-"

"But the diaper's wet."

There was a sigh and Maemi walked into the nursery still brushing her hair to check for herself. Sure enough, Tadashi was right.

"How'd you know?" she asked as she carried Hiro over to the changing station. 

"He made a face last night, before dad changed him." Tadashi shrugged. "I saw him make the same face."

"Hmmm."

They both looked at Hiro. He was doing a soundless giggle, jerking his hands and feet in unison.

"Keep an eye out for more faces, okay, Dashi?"

He nodded.

* * *

Hiro made lots of faces. One for being hungry, for needing to be changed, for being cold, wanting to be picked up, sleepy, scared, happy. It went on and on, the three vocal Hamadas sharing notes on each expression. Hiro wasn't making noises, but he was communicating to them and that was important. 

Maemi bought a couple of baby wraps and his parents were in the habit of carrying Hiro around in them, the infant snuggled up on their hips or shoulders. In the crib, they couldn't see Hiro's face very well through the bars. Wrapped up in brightly colored cloth, Hiro was close and easy to read. The baby seemed to like it too, if the smiles were anything to go by. Tadashi swore Hiro looked depressed every time he was put down on his back. 

Tadashi tried to wrap Hiro to his hip too, but it didn't work very well. Hiro was heavy! And when he just wanted to play with his brother, Hiro fit fine in his cradled arms or sitting on his lap.

* * *

Hiro still didn't make much noise at one. He was just as expressive though, more so as he pointed towards what he wanted and could make all sorts of gestures. It was never hard to understand what Hiro wanted.

Tadashi still wished he would do something other than light scoffs and breathy laughs.

His parents, and Tadashi, were worried again. A one, a lot of children were walking. Hiro hadn't even started crawling yet. Oh, he would sit and play, legos were his favorite, and he would pull himself up to pat his hands on Tomeo's lap, but he wouldn't crawl from place to place.

Tomeo jokingly suggested at first that Hiro was just smart enough to have them all wrapped around his fingers so that they carried him everywhere. Tadashi half way believed it; Hiro build incredible thing with those legos, always colored within the lines, and had such an intelligence to his gaze. His head would ping-pong back and forth between two speaking people and Tadashi was positive his brother understood every word.

He just didn't say any himself.

No 'dad' or 'mama' or 'ni-san'. Nothing.

Coupled with the lack of crawling, their parents prepared to take Hiro to another round of doctor visits.

They only made it to one, but Tadashi could hear the same pattern of words and results.

_There's nothing actually wrong. He's just a late bloomer._

But this time, after spending so much time looking at Hiro's facial expressions, he could tell the doctor had some concerns. Nothing was showing up on the scans or from the blood tests, but something was off. No sound? No movement?

That night, as Tadashi worked on a 3D puzzle of a heart with Hiro's help in the living room, he could hear his parents talking. They were going over the results from the tests, wondering, speculating. That was the problem with being a doctor, Tadashi thought, you were always thinking of what could be wrong. 

Maemi wanted to take Hiro to see more people, but Tomeo was saying no. It hadn't made a difference before, his father said, and it most likely wouldn't make a difference now. They'd just have to, maybe, starting thinking a little differently about Hiro.

_Maybe there was something wrong in his head, some type of disability no one knew about, that Hiro would never get over. Who knows, maybe he'd start crawling soon, there were kids out there who didn't start walking till 15 months, but being mute? Maybe it was time to admit it to themselves Hiro would always be unable to speak, would always be a little slow._

Tadashi listened to his parents talk instead of working on the puzzle, watching Hiro the entire time. His brother had been handing him pieces of the heart and not in a random order. He'd been predicting the next piece, though Tadashi hadn't quite realized that until he had fifteen layers down and the heart didn't look wonky. Hiro wasn't slow, he was smart. And if the look on his face said anything, as Hiro stared at the pieces strewn on the floor while listening to their parents, he understood everything Maemi and Tomeo were saying. 

Hiro's face was scrunched up and he looked devastated, hurt. 

Tadashi couldn't leave him that way.

"They're just worried. I'm worried too." He fingered the base of the puzzle stand. "I know you're smart Hiro, but you're so behind the developmental curve. We want you to have a good life when you're older. You can get by without talking, once you can read and write and maybe I should get some ASL books from the library, but walking? You'll need that skill. If you can't walk, there'll be issues for you later and none of us want that for you Hiro. Because mom and dad and I love you."

Hiro watched him while he spoke and when Tadashi finished gave a little nod. 

Tadashi knew Hiro was smart, but he wasn't sure if his brother understood all of that or just nodding because he was mimicking a behavior.

* * *

Two weeks later, just two weeks, Hiro was running through the house with his little breathy laughs.

Tadashi didn't know if it was true, but he always thought that what he said that night after listening to their parents was what forced his brother to get on his knees to crawl the next morning and the quickly learn to walk. Most babies took months between stages. Hiro took days. 

But Hiro was smart, Tadashi knew that, and he now had a suspicion that Hiro had been secretly crawling and walking behind all their backs because he refused to do something that wasn't perfect. His legos were always elaborate works, not a piece out of place, and his coloring wasn't just in the lines but full of even strokes. His brother was a perfectionist and Tadashi knew that once he had perfected walking Hiro would have done it.

But that conversation they had overheard, and the mini talk Tadashi had given his brother afterwords, Tadashi was certain had sunk into Hiro's mind and then his bones. 

He had only started crawling because his lack of movement was causing stress. Otherwise, Hiro most likely would have waited a few weeks and skipped crawling all together.

* * *

At two, Hiro could read. Simple sentences, but he could. Writing on the other hand was hard. Tadashi had seen him make lines on paper that were good, but circles were harder and having everything the same size and connected harder still. Like with crawling, Tadashi suspected his brother was practicing in secret and refused to write a single letter in front of the family until it would be legible.

Tadashi shrugged if off, that was Hiro, but it drove Maemi crazy. Their parents had mostly figured out that Hiro was fine, beyond fine actually, and stubbornly refused to follow normal child development. It led to a lot of exasperated faces and down right pleading on their mom's part while their dad just shook his head. 

It still didn't explain Hiro's silence. It was normal at this time for kids to speak words correctly, to start speaking in fragmented sentences. If Hiro was holding out and still working on practicing, Tadashi didn't know, but by this time, his brother should have been amazing at talking if his quick show of other skills held true.

Tomeo joked that when Hiro finally spoke, it'd be a full paragraph.

Tadashi was likely to think it would be a math equation, considering how quickly he was moving the mouse to click on the correct answers in the game they were playing. Actually, more like Hiro was playing and Tadashi was just watching because Hiro could do the math much faster in his head. And Tadashi was already playing a game at a more advanced level then normal kids his age. 

Well, Tadashi had skipped 2nd grade. He was smart, but his brother was even smarter.

* * *

It had been a 'Tadashi' night, as his parents called it. One where Tadashi and his parents went out for a few hours, doing whatever Tadashi wanted, without the company of Hiro. 

Tadashi loved his brother, truly, but did not love the attention he kept getting from Maemi and Tomeo as they still tried to bribe him with treats to get Hiro to say something. Today at lunch, Maemi had refused to give Hiro a sandwich until he said 'sandwich'. And when Hiro stayed quite she had switched from 'cheese' to 'bread' to 'food' to 'please' and through it all Hiro just stared at their mom with wide, sad, hungry eyes. 

She gave up after five minutes and handed over the grilled cheese.

After three years of silence, you'd think she'd be used to it.

The night in his parent's company, without competing with Hiro for attention or keeping an eye on the toddler to make sure he didn't get into things Tadashi didn't want him to get into, was a nice break. A movie, with popcorn and chocolate, and a parent on either side. 

It was raining when the film finished, so Tadashi and Maemi stayed in the lobby while Tomeo went to get the car. They went slowly up and down the hills as the rain fell hard, Maemi and Tadashi talking about the film while Tomeo peered out between the frantic windshield wipers.

Tadashi never cared to later learn the details of what exactly happened. All that mattered was that it did. A moving truck slammed into them, the car was sent spinning, it flipped and continued to roll down a steep one-way street that thankfully was empty as from a few parked cars at the time.

When the car finally came to a stand still, upside down, Tadashi ached. 

"Oka-san? Otou-san?" he called out, even as his ribs protested. 

They didn't answer, all Tadashi saw was blood, and he vomited onto the roof of the car. The only thought that went through his mind as the blackness slid across his vision was _if I react this badly to blood, I guess I shouldn't be a_ _doctor._

* * *

Tadashi woke up in a hospital room, Hiro curled up and sleeping against his side. The three year old had manged to bring Tadashi's hand to his mouth and was sucking on his thumb. Normally, Tadashi would yank his hand away. Now, he couldn't be bothered. Hiro was here, that was good, and Tadashi still felt so tired. 

"Tadashi?" 

He turned his head towards the soft voice and there was Aunt Cass in the chair, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Tadashi didn't have to see the tear tracks on her face, the red eyes, pale skin, and circles under her eyes to know what had happened. Her being there was enough. If his parents had survived, it would be them in that chair and not Cass.

* * *

Tadashi wasn't sure Hiro fully understood what was going on. He knew they were in the hospital because Tadashi was hurt, because there was a car accident. The toddler kept looking out into the hallway, glancing from Aunt Cass while she was on the phone or with a doctor to Tadashi and finally towards Hiro's own hands. A nurse had returned him once to a panicking Cass, saying they had found Hiro three floors above peeking into the rooms. 

Whether Hiro was trying to learn this place better, or looking for their parents, Tadashi didn't know. How did you explain to a three year old that his parents were dead? That when Tadashi was released, they'd pack up their things and move to Cass's place in a different part of town? Tadashi had no idea where to begin. It didn't seem like Cass knew either.

Instead, Tadashi took to keeping Hiro close. He'd wait for Hiro to ask, in that silent way of his, about their parents. Isn't that what all the parenthood books said? If a child asks they're ready to know?

But Hiro didn't ask, didn't even complain when they went back to their apartment and started packing. Well, Tadashi picked out what to pack and sent Hiro off on errands to collect one item or another while Tadashi filled the suitcases. 

It was their second night at Aunt Cass's, sleeping in her bed while she took the couch until they could get the attic all sorted and turned into a bedroom for the two boys. Tadashi was curled around Hiro, it kept the nightmares at bay. His parents covered in blood, Hiro too laying on the car's roof while Tadashi was still buckled into the seat above him, the sound of the car rolling. 

Tadashi was fighting off sleep, knowing that having Hiro in his arms didn't always work. He thought Hiro was asleep until his brother shifted against him and Tadashi looked down into open eyes. 

"Oka-san and Otou-san are dead."

Somewhere in the back of Tadashi's mind he thought _look at that, Hiro finally talked. The first word out of his mouth is 'mom'._ But what was at the forefront of his mind was that his brother's first words were the worst words put into a sentence ever.

"Do you know what that means?"

Hiro nodded. 

"Use words, tell me exactly what it means." Because Hiro could do that, Tadashi knew it. 

"It means their bodies have stopped functioning." Of course Hiro would read Tadashi's health books, and most likely Maemi's medical journals too. "It means," - Hiro curled up tighter, hands fisting Tadashi's shirt - "they're gone and they're never coming back."

Tadashi couldn't hold back his sob as he curved his body around Hiro's, pulling his brother closer to him then he already had been. 

"Yeah, that's right Hiro."

Their parents were gone. They would not hear Hiro's first sentences, understand his genius to it's fullness, or see Hiro off to school. It was Tadashi who would wait for Hiro outside the gates, make school lunches, layout out the clothes the previous night. Aunt Cass would insist on doing something to help, Tadashi was sure of that, but Tadashi would also insist on doing it all himself.

His parents would never watch Hiro grow, hear him speak, taste his poor attempts at cooking to come, feel his warmth on their sides. So Tadashi would do that. He had his mother's eyes after all, and her ears, while his mouth and skin tone mimicked Tomeo's. 

Their parents were gone and so Tadashi would experience every bit of Hiro for them.

"Don't stop talking, okay? I want to hear your voice every day now."

"Okay," Hiro agreed and the drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are warm cookies but comments are a whole plateful! Tell me what you think, either here or on my Tumblr, Uniasus.


End file.
